It's Only A Matter Of Time
by MsAnimanga
Summary: Jane is struggling with her thoughts. Drabble. Extended into a somewhat connected series.
1. It's Only A Matter Of Time

**This is a random piece that came to me the other day, and I thought that I might share it. It's a series of random drabbles, sort of, in one cohesive piece. I may or may not continue it, I'm not sure, it's a mess as it is.**

It's only a matter of time.

You can't escape it, as much as you want to. Her smile is blinding, and it pulls you in. Her quirks are too much for you to handle…

You make excuses to enter that chilly morgue just to see her, cold and uninviting as it may be, she is the opposite.

There are the common words between you, the usual witty remarks drip from your lips, and her laughter bounces from the walls. You would answer her with jokes forever, if it meant hearing that laugh every moment of every day.

* * *

><p>Your heart skips several beats when she enters the room, and you can't help it when your eyes gravitate to her.<p>

Her hair bounces when she waltzes up to your desk, a cup of hot coffee in her hand and that beautiful smile on her face. All you need in the world, in one package; caffeine, her smile- and _her_.

It's all you can do to keep from pulling her to you, coffee and all. It's not just the drink in her hand that you want to taste. You let the thought linger in your mind before taking the drink, staring into it as though the fancy foam holds your future. They're not tea leaves, but you can almost see her name for a second.

You're letting yourself hope. She says something about your shirt, and you're sure that she's noticed that it's new.

"Did you dress up for me, Detective?"

You're letting yourself hope.

It's only a matter of time.

* * *

><p>"Do they hurt?"<p>

Of course they hurt. They always hurt. They pulse with an agonizing pain some days. Lately, though, you let her touch them, and they don't hurt.

You let her take your hands, anyway, nestled between hers, in her lap. She can hold them. Nobody is watching. It will be okay, you tell yourself.

She caresses the scars, the rugged shapes that she likened to veins, once.

"_Your blood ran through them…"_ She had said.

"_Your life runs through the scars, even now. Through them, but not out of them, Jane. You're alive. Don't let them drain the life from you."_

You weren't sure if she was still referring to the scars.

They drain the life from you. They take things from you, all of them. You're afraid to live, for fear of what _they_ will say.

She looks at you now, with that look that says that she's caught you drifting again. Your hands are still in her lap, and you pull them away, taking a moment to touch her cheek.

You stop yourself, though. You can't.

The thought flashes behind your eyes before you can stop it.

_What would they say? _

You clench your teeth, clench your fists, clamp your eyes shut. You wish that you weren't one of them. You hold yourself back, more than anyone else.

It's only a matter of time.

* * *

><p>You grip the sink, knuckles white and scars searing with pain. The woman in the mirror is downtrodden, broken, falling apart. You're stronger than this, you're Jane fucking Rizzoli.<p>

You've handled so much before, but you can't handle this.

You've been kidnapped, you've faced a serial killer twice, and you face evil every day. Hell, you even survived a bullet through your gut- a hunk of metal heat that you put there yourself.

All it takes is one adorable Medical Examiner to tear you apart.

You know that they all say otherwise, but at this moment, you feel weak. So damn weak, because the tears are welling up again, and she doesn't even know what she's doing to you.

And you can't take the route that you usually do. You can't flare with anger- you can't possibly be angry at her. It's not her fault, it's not her fault that she's so damn perfect, and that you're fighting yourself.

You won't let yourself be happy.

But it's not the happiness that you're running from. It's the hurt. You, of all people, are afraid of getting hurt.

You can handle physical pain, sure, but the thought of emotional pain, the thought of rejection, it kills you.

You'd rather live on the sidelines than lose her. You need a plan. You need to do something, before this need for her consumes you. You always have a plan. You can fix this.

It's only a matter of time.

* * *

><p>It's times like this, in your bed on lonely nights, that it really hits you.<p>

You're falling for her.

As much as you insist that you're not, you can read the signs. You can't control your dreams. When you wake in the night, with her name on your lips, you know that it's only a matter of time.


	2. Sorry

**This "story" might just become a series of drabbles, I'm not sure where this one is going, really. I have the next chapter written up mostly, though I can't say yet whether Jane will resolve anything in the next chapter or not, this one's sort of directing itself at this point. Review if you can, reviews make me happy.**

It's a full moon. You blame that sphere outside your window for the wretched feeling in your gut. There is no reason that you should feel this way. Your gut has never let you down before- something is sure to break tonight.

The stirring at your side calls your attention, and you turn. Caramel locks are illuminated by the moonlight, sifting in through the window. She had insisted on pulling the curtains away, murmuring into the darkness and explaining the tides' relationship to the moon cycle.

When you heard the knock on your door tonight, you knew that it would be her- who else would show up here at two in the morning?

You would never turn her away, and you led her to your room without a word. It was routine now, it seemed, to seek solace in one another's presence. Sleep came so quickly when you shared a bed, and you have both acknowledged it silently with these late visits.

She stirs slightly now, eyes fluttering, and an arm reaches for you. Her fingers curl into your side, and she seems so peaceful in this moment.

It springs up on you again as you watch her- that yearning. There are few things you wouldn't give to have this every night, to call her your own. But she doesn't need any more complications in her life. You need her, but you won't pull her any further into your bullshit. There is so much more than just others' opinions holding you back. Her well being is all that matters.

The tears are hot and relentless, slipping down your cheeks in the still darkness. It's stupid, this constant crying that you seem to be falling into. This is not like you, before this you would never cry in this situation, you would go for what you wanted. This is how it has to be, though- she can't know.

"Jane?"

You stifle a sob, for a moment you hope that she's gone back to sleep.

Her hand comes up then, brushing away a few of the tears that managed to escape, despite your efforts.

"I'm sorry, Maura. I'm sorry…" Your words are faint, and they rip from your throat without your permission. You hate how pathetic you sound.

You're sorry for wanting Maura, sorry for hurting her, sorry for being so afraid, sorry for letting everything get in the way, sorry for not being good enough. You would keep apologizing if you could, but she would never understand, and you would be speaking forever.

"I- I just had a nightmare.. I didn't mean to wake you." The lie comes easily, and you wipe angrily at your tears for what seems like the millionth time.

"I'm sorry" You whisper, your own voice is unrecognizable.

You hate this person that you're becoming. Even with Hoyt, you had the determination to die without giving him the satisfaction of giving in without a fight. Now, you won't dare to fight for her, for yourself, for what could be. You've never been so emotional, never felt so small or weak.

Her limbs wrap around your form, as though she's trying to hold you together, keep you from falling apart.

"Shhh, shhhh…." Her voice is soft, soothing, and you let yourself fall into the lull of it. You allow yourself to be held, to fall apart in front of her. She knows this side of you, the vulnerable core that you hide from most.

You sob until you can't anymore, and fall asleep in the arms of Maura Isles.


End file.
